


Best Foot Forward: A LiS Fetish Fic

by FamiliarInAStrangerLand



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Continuity What Continuity, F/F, Foot Fetish, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FamiliarInAStrangerLand/pseuds/FamiliarInAStrangerLand
Summary: Years after the storm, Max and Chloe go on a little adventure for closure, without a single piece of footwear. Basically the same two characters, but Max is a wannabe barefooter in this.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Sockless Sneakers

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has possessed me for the longest time. I'll admit it's been a while since I played the games, so I tried to keep the facts simple. If I've got anything wrong, I'm sorry.

Two years after the storm…

It was a nice apartment. Cozy enough to fit both women in, and cheap enough that only one of them ever needed to pay rent. Chloe Price didn’t take this as an excuse to avoid work, but it definitely put less pressure on her. After everything back in Arcadia Bay, a little less pressure was appreciated.

She’d found a job at a grocers. For all it had taught her about employment, and in particular the handling of fresh fruit and veg, the pay and hours were low. It wasn’t enough to purchase a house for the two of them, but it kept their Netflix subscription healthy. (She insisted on paying for that herself.)

Best of all, it gave her time to herself. That January, Max bought her a copy of Final Fantasy XIII. “Don’t listen to those haters,” she promised. “The characters are some of  _ the _ best I’ve ever seen in a video game.” A few months in, and they still struck her as annoying or wooden, but the battle system was kinda robust. Plus, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d played a JRPG. At the very least, the game was user-friendly.

Her ears pricked up at the sound of the keys turning. Chloe gasped, reflexively pausing the game, and stampeded towards the front door. She grabbed the archway from the kitchen to stop herself, and settled for hopping from foot to foot, as the door opened; in stepped Max Caulfield.

A very tired, shambling Max Caulfield, carrying her luggage on one finger. “Hey babe,” said Chloe with a smile. “How was Portland?”

Max staggered in, dropping the luggage. “Where do I…” she gasped, ambling towards the couch, toppling onto it like a Jenga tower. “They, uh,” she continued, “they liked the pics. But God, finding a projector for simple Polaroids!” She chuckled humorlessly. “I told you about the call when I got there, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, said they flew one in from L.A.,” remarked Chloe, taking a seat on the nearby armchair. “Still, that’s something. Ya had business with L.A.”

“All the other photographers kept theirs stored on hard drives,” Max continued, straining to pull off her sneakers. “At first, I thought the organisers were inexperienced because they didn’t have anything for Polaroids. But everybody else got to display their photos without an issue! Like, am I old-fashioned just because I don’t use my Instagram account?!”

Chloe shrugged. “I did tell you to buy a scanner for your Polaroids. Woulda made this trip a whole lot easier.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Max muttered, stretching and flexing her now-bare toes. “Oh, Chloe,” she said. “If art shows  _ in  _ state are this stressful, I don’t ever wanna  _ think  _ about getting invited to one out of state.” Her eyes drifted closed as she spoke, her words fading to a murmur mid-sentence. Chloe filled in the blanks in her head, drew near and stroked her fingers through her hair.

“Tell ya what,” she whispered, “I’ve spent these past three days cooking up a little surprise. Just rest up for a bit, and you’ll see.”

Max’s eyes stayed shut. She gave a small sigh as if in response, but did little more than that. Her arm dropped to the floor, fingers stroking the familiar green carpet beneath. Chloe smiled, her eyes taking in the welcome form of her girlfriend, stopping briefly at her bare feet. Since settling in, Chloe couldn’t recall her seeing her wear socks, not even in winter. Whenever she felt particularly lazy, she’d take out the trash barefoot, or drive to the nearby Taco Bell unshod.

It was a strange thing to notice, she supposed, but it certainly made her wonder. She stood up, grabbed the luggage and made for the bedroom. Last time she checked, her truck keys were in there.

The first thing to come into focus was the radio. It was some EDM song, one she didn’t recognise, but it irritated her on a subconscious level. Following that, her ears detected the thrum of Chloe’s truck travelling down the road. Her eyes drew open, and all she could see was a single stretch of road amidst rows of pine trees. In her peripheral, Chloe was driving, wearing a beanie over her purple hair.

Slowly, Max put the pieces together. “You could’ve at least put Country Roads on,” she said softly, stretching out her arms. Her fingers scraped against the rusted roof overhead. Her soles rubbed across the thick, lined steel beneath the leather seats.

Hold on. Why could she feel the floor?

Max leaned forwards, and realized with a gasp that she was barefoot. “The hell?” She looked at Chloe in surprise, who only gave her a smirk and a shrug. “You can borrow mine, if you like,” she replied. Indeed, now Max saw the boots, lying right next to her feet. Chloe’s black, knee-high boots.

Perplexed, Max gave Chloe a better look, and saw bare toes pressing the accelerator. She could just about see the speckled remains of purple toenail polish on them. Her eyebrow rose in disbelief. “Are you shitting me?” She laughed. “Since when do you drive without shoes on?”

“You’re one to talk,” said Chloe. “Besides, if the boot fits…” She glanced over to her, allowing her to finish the sentence.

_ Hell no,  _ she thought with a slowly growing grin.  _ Me and Chloe going somewhere together, only she knows where, and she’s completely barefoot!  _ She picked up the boots between her fingers. “If you’re not wearing them,” she told her, before tossing them behind the seat. Behind them, the boots bounced in the truck’s bed, protected only by a flimsy net.

“Knew you’d do that,” she replied. “Seriously, it’s the only pair I brought. So you’d better not take me anywhere rough, ‘k?”

This made Max laugh. “Hey, you’re the one taking me somewhere. You gotta look after me!” She laughed and watched the road ahead. Her eyes darted to the radio and back, waiting for something remotely decent to come on. “Hey, mind if I…”

“Oh, be my guest.”

Max smiled and turned the dial. The radio alternated between pop, more pop, some heavy metal, pop, pop, a guitar melody, pop, and back to the guitar. Finally, a song with some genuine heart put into it. She gave an emphatic sigh, swinging her feet onto the dashboard, knowingly glancing at Chloe.

She only gave a quiet smile at her joke. Clearly she got it, and liked it a little, but didn’t find it  _ that  _ funny.  _ And that’s the other reason you didn’t join the Blackwell Academy Comedy Club,  _ she thought to herself.  _ Least this is kinda comfy.  _ She looked ahead, wiggled her raw, unpainted toes.  _ Wow, Chloe takes far better care of her toes than I do. _

The truck hit a pothole. The dashboard bucked Max’s feet back onto the ground, hurting her knees in the process. “Heh, sorry,” muttered Chloe with a sheepish smile.

The two passed a few road stop diners along the way. When at last, Chloe pulled up at one, it was a surprisingly modern one, without any real retro aesthetic to it. The Blue Spot Stop, read the sign by the entrance, accompanying a great blue splatter. “You think that paint’s meant to be there?” Chloe asked, elbowing Max. “Or did they screw up, and rename the place to try and hide their mistake?”

Max smirked. “They’ll let us in, won’t they?” She looked down at her bare feet, then at the front door. There weren’t any ‘No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service’ signs on display, but she could just feel the sentiment pouring through the door.

“We’re wearing shirts, aren’t we?” Chloe replied, walking in first. “Just act like it’s completely normal, and nobody’ll even notice.” She walked in first, as if she knew where she was going, leading Max into a near-empty horseshoe-shaped diner. The counter sat in the middle, designed to accommodate six times the amount of customers they currently had. Chloe led her around it, to a table with two leather seats on opposite ends. She slid herself along, and watched Max do the same on her end.

“Anything you’d like?” asked Chloe. “It’s probably just burgers ‘n’ milkshake.”

“Honestly, I haven’t eaten anything since 4 this morning,” Max giggled. “You could serve me some freaking Soylent Green and I’d take it!”

“Some what?”

“Er, nothing.” She shrugged with a smile.  _ Maybe next time, watch the film before making the reference.  _ Awkwardly, she pulled up her legs and sat cross-legged, trying to settle into her seat. She gave a cursory glance to her soles, realising for the first time just how dirty they’d become.  _ Damn, haven’t seen them like that in a while,  _ she thought to herself.

Her attention was broken by the sight of Chloe’s toes gripping her jeans legs. Max gasped with shock, and Chloe burst out laughing. (She noticed a man staring at them in her peripheral, but tried not to notice.) “So then,” she said, leaning forward on her elbows. “Bet you’ve never gone this long without shoes, eh?”

“Not with you, no,” replied Max. “How are you finding it?”

“Eh, bit rough.” She stuck out her bottom lip. “Nothing I can’t handle after a few tries.”

“You’re thinking of doing it again?”

Chloe leaned back, giving a shrug. “Don’t see why not,” she said. “Maybe I’ll do my next concert barefoot, see how that turns out.” Her eyes darted away, focusing on a thought. “I’ve seen it a few times in some concerts I’ve been to.”

Max couldn’t help but smile at that. “Oh yeah,” she said suddenly, realised how loud that sounded, and tried to calm herself down. “So while I was in the hotel room, I found this old selfie I took after gym class. Tried diving into it, and…” Her eyes drifted away from Chloe’s, as the memories returned to her. “I got dressed and went to Mr. Jefferson’s class, completely barefoot.”

“Shut up!” Chloe’s eyes shot wide open. “You’re just fucking with him now, aren’t you?”

“Not gonna lie,” said Max with a knowing smile, “after diving back in time like that for two years, you feel like a god. All you need to do is remember how things originally went, and you can practically do anything.”

“Did you stick around to see the new timeline?”

Max shook her head. “It takes the fun out of it,” she said, her smile fading. “At this point, I don’t wanna know how things might’ve been different. Because in practically every new timeline I check out, something happens to you. You’re either dead or broken in some way.” Her eyes drifted down to the table. “Someday, I wanna see a timeline where nothing bad happened to you. Where you are the best version of yourself you can be.”

Chloe’s eyebrow rose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dunno,” Max muttered, her confidence trailing away. “It’s just, you’ve been through a lot of shit you don’t deserve, and-”

“Max,” she interrupted, “it’s fine. All that shit made me who I am today. A lot of it sucks, I won’t deny, but it all led me to meeting you. Hate to sound all fatalistic, but I wouldn’t change any of that.” She reached out and took Max’s hands. “Remember your promise?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Max said, her smile returning. “I can fuck with time all I like, but I’m not leaving you for some other Chloe.” She looked her in the eyes. “At least in this timeline, your existence isn’t causing major world catastrophes anymore.”

“Hell yeah!” Chloe declared, pointing her finger in the air. “After that storm, I guess fate figured ‘Ah, fuck it. She’s not worth my time.’ And now ya got me for keeps!”

Max was in hysterics. Her left leg trailed free and draped over the chair, her fist pounding weakly on the table. “Oh man,” she gasped. “I can’t… I just can’t…”

“Oh, you,” said Chloe with a shaking head. “We’d better go and actually order something.”

“Wait,” gasped Max, catching her breath. “I wanna tell you about the other flashbacks I had with that photo!” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “In one of them, I left gym class without putting anything on!”

Chloe leaned in, then suddenly shot back, biting her lip and jumping to her feet. “No, no, save that. Save that for when I get back!” She walked away and made for the counter, laughing to herself all the way. Max watched her go with a smile, noticing the dusty footprints she left behind.  _ All else fails, it’ll make for a great story for the road,  _ she decided.


	2. Bare Feet at Home

Of all the establishments of Arcadia Bay, Blackwell Academy was hit the hardest. Without the backing of Sean Prescott, and all the students scattered after both the storm and the Jefferson controversy, there was nothing keeping the academy open. Chloe expected some company to buy the lot, demolish it, and set up something new. As of that day, nobody bothered.

Max stared in disbelief at the old shell of the academy, and the crude fence surrounding it. “Shit,” she said softly. “Chloe… Did you know about this?”

Chloe nodded. Max was taking this harder than she’d expected. “It’s kind of a stain on the town now,” she said grimly, trying to pick her words carefully. “Bet nobody’s coming back here until there’s no-one left who remembers what happened.” She hopped out the truck, opening the door for Max.

The time traveller leapt into the overgrown grass, beholding the boarded windows and broken sign of her former residence. There was a look on her face; some combination of shock, horror, grief and rage. She closed her eyes, clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and let out a great sigh. “Sorry,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “Just had to remind myself I’m not in another timeline.”

Chloe put her hand on Max’s shoulder. “We can head back home if you want,” she said gently. “I didn’t mean for this to upset you.”

Max shook her head. “No, I think this’ll do us some good,” she said, walking up to the fence. “I’d go check out the pool, but it’s probably drained or something.” Her fingers wrapped around the fence. It wasn’t chain-link, thank god, but it still wasn’t easy to vault over. “Hey, you’re the boss at breaking and entering. Could you help?”

Chloe laughed and threw herself at the gate. “Y’know,” she grunted, “this is both easier  _ and  _ more painful to climb in bare feet!” As soon as she reached the top, she turned and offered her hand. “Y’know, maybe I shoulda picked the train yard,” she added as they both hit the floor.

“You’re not thinking of going barefoot  _ there,  _ are you?” Max asked incredulously.

“Why not?” Chloe shrugged. “You’re there to bail me out of impaling my foot on something.”

All Max could do was roll her eyes. “So, where do you wanna head first?”

Not a single piece of furniture remained in Blackwell Academy. The lights still worked, but flickered randomly. The floor had picked up layers upon layers of dust since its abandonment. The air itself was still and slightly damp, with a few mould patches in the corners of the ceiling. Max took them in, taking photos on her phone, and tutting at each of them. “You should’ve brought my Polaroid,” she mused.

Chloe smirked. “I did this to take you  _ away  _ from photography,” she reminded her.

Max rolled her eyes, pocketing the phone. “Oh, meant to ask earlier,” she said. “Have you ever actually performed a concert barefoot?”

“Uh, not normally,” said Chloe, looking at her own feet. “Holy cow, look at these things,” she muttered to herself. “Oh, actually, there was one time.”

“Go on,” said Max.

“Right.” Chloe paused, leaning against the wall, and cast her eyes up. “So, it was summer, right? It was this outdoor venue a year ago. Real warm, almost 100 degrees. I went in with jeans and boots like normal, but like halfway through, I just went “Fuck it,” ripped ‘em off and finished barefoot.”

Max blushed. “How did it feel?”

Chloe bit her lip. “Sweaty,” she answered. “Kinda relieving, though. When we were done, I packed up and took the boots in my spare hand, didn’t bother putting ‘em back on.” She shrugged. “Didn’t think much of it at the time.” A smile crested her lips. “Course, if I’d known you were into it…”

Max smiled back. “Just feedback for your next gig, I guess.”

Once, they had played in the academy pool. The building was humid and smelt of B.O. and chlorine. Even now, that smell lingered, even after the pool had been thoroughly drained. Part of the roof had caved in, debris spilling over the deep end.

Neither girl chose to step into the pool. They were both already familiar with the sensation of harsh, jagged pool tiles underfoot.

Instead, they came to the dorms. “Jeez,” muttered Max to herself, witnessing only barren, empty hallways and bare patches where the bulletin board used to be.

“This place musta been the real heart of Blackwell,” said Chloe to herself, glancing at all the doors they passed. Max went, seemingly on autopilot, to what was her room. “With everyone gone…”

Nothing remained in her room. Both girls knew this; Max remembered clearing it all out personally, taking all her books, films and guitar back home. The clearance firm, or whoever the hell it was, did the rest. She sat on the floor where her bed once stood, stretching out her legs, looking numbly at the overhead light.

Chloe sat next to her, matching her gaze. “Welcome home, Maxwell Caulfield.”

She laughed bitterly. “This is easily the strangest day I’ve had this year,” she said. Her eyes drifted to her girlfriend’s face. “Thanks, Chloe,” she added. “I’ve been meaning to do something like this for a while.”

“What?” asked Chloe. “Come back to this shithole?”

Max shook her head. “Go on a little barefoot adventure,” she explained. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Y’know, see just how far my soles were capable of going.” She pulled in her leg, revealing a very firm, black layer of dirt over her sole. The sight made her smile. “How’ve you found it?”

Chloe shrugged. “Really weird,” she admitted, pulling in her own sole. It too was as black as Max’s, though she was nowhere near as satisfied with it. “Like, I felt pretty vulnerable all day. It’s been fun, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not sure I’d go this far for this long without my boots.”

“Oh,” said Max with a tinge of disappointment. Her own foot stretched back out, the details of her sole hidden once more.

“What’s up?” Chloe asked, giving her a serious look. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I guess not,” said Max, getting to her feet. “It’s just, you’re the first person I’ve ever gone barefoot with. It felt nice, y’know? Like I wasn’t alone anymore.”

Chloe pulled herself up with the windowsill. “It means that much to you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Max muttered. “I’ve been thinking that, if I get to go freelance with my photography, I might get to work without shoes. Barefoot Max Photography, or something stupid like that.” She smiled, but couldn’t meet Chloe’s gaze. “I dunno, people would probably think I’m dumb or insane.”

Chloe ran her fingers past her pocket, feeling the thing hidden inside. Perhaps she wouldn’t need it today after all. “Wanna head home?” she offered.

“Please,” said Max.

The two took hands and passed through the door. “Gotta admit,” said Chloe jovially, “this probably wasn’t the best place to go on a barefoot adventure.” She closed the door behind her, leaving only an empty room, full only of fading memories.


	3. Bare Feet on Stage

Three months after the Blackwell trip…

Her band was called the Taxmen, despite Chloe being the lead singer and guitarist. Max had never met the other members before; there was a New York guy called Jess on bass, and the drummer, Tristan, was from Canada. Max met them before the show, and they seemed like decent people. Neither told her where Chloe was. “Just wait ‘till she comes onstage,” said Jess. “Apparently she’s got a… ah, never mind.”

It was an early winter’s day, and the venue was a rented out high school gymnasium. It was spacious enough, and surprisingly clean. The audience was pretty small; Max counted around forty people, including herself. Had Chloe got the gym for cheap? She hoped so. They couldn’t afford throwing too much money at stuff like this.

The lights fell. The band played an introduction as the spotlights came on. Chloe took to the stage with her guitar, rocking a white vest, purple beanie and tight jeans. She strode across the stage in bare feet, trying to rile the audience up.

Hold on. Bare feet? Why was she performing barefoot?

For the first few songs, Chloe didn’t acknowledge her lack of footwear. The band played covers of songs Max didn’t recognise, save for Hazy Shade of Winter, and the audience enjoyed it pretty well. She wasn’t playing as aggressively as she had in the past, but still danced around while her fingers worked the strings. Like all good rock stars, she was left panting and sweaty after each song.

“Thank you,” said Chloe, after their fifth song. “So, uh, you may’ve noticed what shoes I’m wearing tonight.” She held up her foot and wiggled her toes. One guy in the back hollered, making Max wince. “My girlfriend introduced me to ‘em, and y’know what? They’ve really grown on me. I wanna rock ‘em just how she does.”

The crowd cheered, albeit less enthusiastically.

“In fact, she’s here tonight!” Chloe declared, leaping off the stage with the mic in her hands. She stopped before Max, who was wearing some ankle boots for the occasion. “And, uh, I have a little question for her,” she said through the mic.

Max’s heart raced. Statements like that only meant one thing.

“Maxwell Caulfield,” said Chloe Price, pulling her fist out of her pocket, “will you marry me?” Her fist opened, revealing a small diamond ring sat in her palm.

Max sat there for a few excruciating seconds. A wave of terror overcame both girls. With a timpani rolling in her head, Max took the ring and slid it on her finger. Then, with an emphatic scream of “YES!!” She threw herself into Chloe’s arms, wrapping tight around her.

The audience applauded, and the band began to play another instrumental. Chloe beckoned Max onstage, to just enjoy time with her new fiancé. Before she made the climb, she aggressively tugged off her boots and tossed them aside, stepping barefoot on stage with her. The two hugged, then kissed deeply while the audience cheered, again not as enthusiastically as before.

For the rest of the night, Max returned to her seat and let Chloe play their list.  _Maxine Price,_ she thought.  _ Or should it be Chloe Caulfield? I’ll need to ask her about that. _ She spared no thoughts for her former boots, and would never even see them again. Perhaps someone had stolen them. She didn't care. She was going to be Chloe’s barefoot bride. Or groom, whatever. Even if Chloe was going to keep her boots around, Max had plans for the shoes she had left…


End file.
